


Boldly Go [WIP Amnesty]

by fleurdeliser, tuesdaysgone



Category: Comics Industry RPF, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Space, Frank/Jamia Background Pairing, Holodecks/Holosuites, M/M, WIP Amnesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurdeliser/pseuds/fleurdeliser, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaysgone/pseuds/tuesdaysgone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starfleet Captain Gerard Way is rescued from the Borg. Shenanigans ensue. A Star Trek fusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boldly Go [WIP Amnesty]

**Author's Note:**

> This is unfinished and unbetaed. We have decided not to finish it, so we are posting it as is.

_We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ship. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. You will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile..._

"James, so help me, if you don't turn off the fucking comms right now I am going to lose it. More," Frank shouts. "Ray, evasive maneuvers!"

Becky grabs him and tugs him toward the turbolift. "Commander Iero, I have a lock on the Captain's location and can beam you there. You will have two minutes at most. Remember, you have to affix this transmitter to him. It will mask the Borg technology if they've started the assimilation process and allow me to beam him out."

"Okay," Frank replies and the crew parts as they walk toward the transporter room. "Keep the shields up," he orders and steps onto the pad.

"I will," she says and then fades from view.

The moment he opens his eyes in the cube, he gets vertigo so bad he has to reach out and grab onto a railing. Being so high up wouldn't be so bad, but seeing row after row after row of regeneration alcoves spread out before him and above and below him makes him want to throw up.

He can't save all of them, though. He can only save Gerard.

The cube is astonishingly quiet considering it's in the middle of a skirmish with another ship - _their_ ship - and it makes him uneasy. He nearly reaches for his phaser, but stops and reminds himself that if they don't feel threatened, they won't attack right away. He looks at the alcoves nearest to him, searches the faces for Gerard under all the fucking implants. He finally spots him at the end of the row and calmly, slowly walks over to him.

"Gerard," Frank whispers when he's standing in front of him. Gerard has an implant over his eye and is covered in Borg body armor, and now Frank does have to turn his head and cough bile onto the walkway.

Frank fumbles the transmitter out of his pocket and just as he's about to attach it to Gerard's suit, the laser from the eye implant activates and Gerard's voice says, "State your designation."

"I'm _Frank_ , I'm your First Officer. You're Gerard, you're Captain Way."

"My designation is Two of Four, quaternary adjunct of unimatrix Two-One. State your designation."

Frank feels the bile rise in his throat again and he puts the transmitter on Gerard's shoulder. He taps his comm badge. "Becky, now."

The sparkly haze of the transporter takes them away. A second later, Frank is pushed out of the way and a security team surrounds Gerard. Within moments, he's being lifted onto a stretcher by Gabriel and Fabio. Before they go out the door, Gabriel lays a hand on his arm.

"We will inform you when you can come see him," he says gently and they disappear toward sick bay.

Frank squares his shoulders and walks back toward the turbolift and up to the bridge. Ray and James meet him there.

"We're at warp nine and out of their range, Frankie," Ray says.

"Good," Frank answers. "Now take me into custody."

Ray and James look at each other, then back at him. Neither of them argue, but Frank assures them anyway, "Do it, guys, come on. It's the only way."

Frank likes to think Gerard would approve.

*

"Commander Iero," the head of the tribunal says sternly, looking down from the podium, "you stand here before us today under court-martial, the charges against you very serious indeed. Dereliction of duty. Commandeering a Starfleet vessel. You have been assigned counsel and are permitted to call witnesses in your own defense. How do you plead?"

Frank holds his head high and says very clearly and distinctly, "Not guilty, Admiral Berger."

A murmur goes up in the chamber.

"In that case, we shall recess while you arrange for witnesses," she says. Frank nods and watches as the chamber bursts into activity. He notices Admiral Berger motion for someone and whisper in his ear.

Frank catches his counsel's eye, but Ryland just taps his folder of notes. Frank nods and searches the gallery, finding the two faces he most wants to see and following them out into the corridor.

Gerard's looking at him with a concerned expression. It's only made more effective by his paleness, general gaunt appearance, a few silvery scars, and the remains of the eye implant that Gabriel and Fabio couldn't remove. He's... not okay, not really, not _yet_ , but the _Parade_ still has him, and the Borg doesn't, and that's worth court-martial. To Frank.

If they throw him out of Starfleet, so fucking be it. It was still the right thing to do. For his captain. For his best friend.

"You don't have any witnesses," Jamia says. Calmly, not that Frank would have expected any less from his half-Vulcan wife. He knows she's still worried.

"Yes, thanks, J," Frank says with a sigh. 

"I'm sure the crew will do their best when the prosecution calls them. But they'll be constrained by Starfleet law," Gerard replies.

"Then it's a good thing Jamia called someone outside the chain of command," a voice says from behind them. "Namely, me."

Frank turns and automatically snaps to attention. He sees Gerard and Jamia do the same. The man in front of him is a legend... who also happens to be Jamia's commanding officer.

"Captain Morrison," Gerard says.

Captain Morrison sketches them a salute in return. "Captain Way. Commander Iero. Commander Nestor. Commander Iero, when my chief medical officer asks me for a favor, I listen. So here I am. At your service."

Fucking Jamia, she never breathed a word. God, he doesn't deserve her. "We, ah, were granted a recess, if you want us to brief you, Captain," Frank stammers.

"I was in the chamber, no need," Morrison says. "I will speak for you. I know what happened. I read the logs and I understand what you did and why you did it. Admiral Berger will be sympathetic, as will several others on the tribunal. I have confidence that we can at least minimize your punishment."

"It was worth it, whatever happens," Frank says stubbornly.

"And I have every ounce of faith that the career ahead of you will be 'worth it,' too, Commander," Morrison replies. 

"Thank you, Captain," Gerard says.

Morrison turns to Gerard and lays a hand on his arm. "If there is anything I can do to help you, Captain, if you ever just need to talk about what happened, know that I am available."

Because of course Captain Morrison is one of the few people in the Federation who can speak with absolute authority on the subject of the Borg. One of the few who can actually _know_ exactly what Gerard went through when he was assimilated. Frank feels a rush of gratitude. 

"Don't thank me yet," Morrison murmurs to them, as if Frank had spoken aloud. Frank supposes his expression must be worth a thousand words.

"No, I will. Thank you for the help, for being here," Frank says. "Even if it doesn't go our way."

"It's the least I can do," Morrison replies. It's more than that and they both know it, but Frank just nods. "Let's go back in the chamber. Karen doesn't like to be kept waiting."

When Frank re-enters the courtroom with Captain Morrison in his wake, the gallery fairly erupts with excited whispers. Ryland looks like someone just gave him a puppy. Frank has to try really hard to keep the smug smile off his face. Captain Grant fucking Morrison is gonna be a witness for him.

 

****

 

The trial commences and it's kind of a blur after that. Witness after witness is called. When James and Ray take the stand, Gerard can _see_ them growing more and more visibly annoyed by the line of questioning brought by the prosecutors, by the way they aren't allowed to say anything in favor of Frank or his actions.

When Frank nearly snaps at one point, Admiral Berger bangs her gavel and grits, "Commander Iero, you would do well to remember why you are here."

Frank opens his mouth, but his eyes meet Gerard's, then flick to the side, clearly taking in Captain Morrison and Jamia next to him. Frank closes his mouth and nods. Gerard releases a little sigh of relief.

Morrison leans close and murmurs in his ear, "Sometimes you just don't know how you put up with them. And then they do something extraordinary to remind you."

Gerard just nods wordlessly. The _Parade_ is lucky to have such a talented and loyal first officer, no matter what the tribunal decides. 

Admiral Berger fixes the defense table with a steady stare and asks, "Witness for the defense?"

"Captain Grant Morrison of the Starship _Enterprise,_ Your Honor," Ryland says. Morrison stands and moves to take the chair Ray just vacated. Ryland stands as well and begins his questions. Gerard kind of wants to jump for joy. _This_ is everything he wanted to say. Morrison describes in vivid yet simple words exactly what it's like inside a Borg ship, what it feels like to be assimilated - the implants, the surgeries, the slow and relentless loss of self. Gerard can feel himself shaking, and Jamia lays a hand on his arm. He takes a deep breath, then another.

"Delay is folly when dealing with the Borg," Morrison continues. "I would do exactly as Commander Iero did in his position, and I would do it for any one member of my crew or their families, down to the lowest ranking ensign. And I would remind the council that my own crew did the same for me. I stand before you because of them, indescribably thankful for the gift of self that they gave me, and I defy you to find any friend or lover or father or mother or brother who wouldn't choose to give the same."

No one speaks for a moment, then Admiral Berger addresses the prosecutor. "Nothing for this witness, Your Honor," he replies. Morrison steps down from the stand and the chamber fills with whispers and murmuring again. Admiral Berger bangs her gavel and when the chamber quiets, says, "Does the defense have anything further?"

"No, Your Honor," Ryland says.

"Then I call a recess for the tribunal to deliberate. Don't go far."

Gerard doesn't go far, because he's not sure his suddenly shaky legs would carry him. Morrison follows him, and Gerard clasps his hand tight to shake it. "You said the perfect thing. I wish we could talk more, but -"

"We live in the twenty-fourth century, Captain Way. We can talk whenever you'd like," Morrison says with a smile. "But let's wait to see what the council has to say before we make any arrangements."

Gerard straightens his shoulders when he hears the bailiff calling the court back into session. Morrison follows him back into the chambers, and Gerard is incredibly conscious of the captain's presence at his back. It's almost enough to let him relax. 

Admiral Berger calls the chamber to order. "Please stand, Commander Iero," she orders. "On the charge of dereliction of duty, the tribunal finds you not guilty. On the charge of commandeering a Starfleet vessel, the tribunal has voted to find you guilty of the charge of unauthorized use of a Starfleet vessel and is sentencing you to eight weeks mandatory leave effective immediately. You may return to your ship at the end of that time."

[la la la]

"I have an idea, Commander," Morrison says when things quiet down a bit. "Captain Way, when does your medical leave end?"

"Two months and a few days," Gerard replies.

"Huh," Frank says. "The tribunal knew that."

"Yes, they did," Morrison murmurs. "I did tell you Admiral Berger would be sympathetic."

"So what's your idea?" Gerard asks.

"Join me on the _Enterprise_ for the duration. Commander Nestor is eminently qualified to deal with Captain Way's medical needs and neither of you will be landlocked."

And they'll have access to Starfleet's high-security comm channels, so they can keep in touch with the command crew. From the legendary _Enterprise_.

And Gerard will be in Jamia's care. There isn't any medical officer in any of the quadrants that he would trust more than her. And he'll be able to talk to Morrison if he needs to. Gerard looks at Frank and raises an eyebrow at him. He nods; like he would turn down a chance to spend eight weeks with his wife. Gerard turns back to Morrison. "Yes, we would be very grateful."

*

"I can't believe we got approval for this," Frank says later, from his seat next to James on the other side of a booth in a smoky little Mission District bar. "Eight whole weeks with my wife." He looks like he won the lottery.

"It's not exactly a vacation," Ray says from next to Gerard. 

It sort of is, though. Gerard still has no idea what he's going to do with himself on board the _Enterprise_. He supposes he'll have time to write and draw, which won't be all bad. And there's always the holodeck. It's been an age since he was able to play any of the games he played before he was promoted. "You could get yourself re-assigned, you know," Gerard said. Frank glares at him and Gerard puts up his hands. "I'm just saying. It's an option if it ever gets to be too much to be apart, Frankie."

"The _Parade_ is ours, and you guys are my family, just as much as Jamia is my family. It's not just an assignment."

Yeah. Gerard knows. He can't help wondering what would have happened if the court-martial hadn't ruled in Frank's favor. Would his crew have fallen apart? He sort of hates the part of him that hopes so, but he knows that Frank is right. The part of him that knows that is the same part of him that's nervous about his stay on the _Enterprise_. He's never had a stranger make such a... personal offer to him before. Morrison is surrounded with a thousand myths and, despite Jamia's obvious respect and trust for the man, Gerard has no idea what to expect.

"We'll be on the _Enterprise_ , so we should be easy to communicate with. I promise not to try to command you remotely," Gerard only half-jokes.

"You like Lazzara pretty well, right?" Ray asks. "He should be fine for a couple of months. And then you can come back and order us all around to your heart's content."

Fine. It will all be fine.

Gerard is really fucking nervous.

*

Frank and Gerard take three days of shore leave to pack. Gerard's been on medical leave for a while now, of course, and has had a chance to scatter his belongings here and there around his apartment, and now he's faced with the dilemma of eight more weeks of civilian life. On the _Enterprise_. He packs more art supplies than clothes, and more books than art supplies, then stares at it all in dismay until Frank comes to rescue him.

Gerard finally manages to finish packing and pulls a jacket from the back of his closet that still makes him feel like a captain. Maybe not a starship captain, but a captain nonetheless. They send a message to the _Enterprise_ requesting permission to board at 1000 hours and receive a gratifyingly prompt reply from the Chief Engineer.

"Lt. Commander McCoy? As in Travie?" Frank asks.

"Dunno. Guess we'll find out," Gerard says. They get on the transporter pad, and a moment later they're in an _Enterprise_ transporter bay and a tall black man is calling Gerard's name and wrapping him up in a hug.

It most certainly is Travie. Gerard smiles and accepts his hug. He's lost track of so many people since his Academy days, and Travie's easy grin is a welcome sight. "Wait until Gabe hears I got to see you first." He taps his comm badge, "Captain, your guests have arrived."

"Excellent. Bring them to my ready room," Captain Morrison's voice sounds.

"I'll have a crewman take care of your kit," Travie says, signaling to one of his crewmen. "Right this way, gentlemen, and I'll take you to where the magic happens." Gerard tips his head back and laughs. "What, you don't think it's magical?" Travie asks.

"No, I am certain that it is. The _Enterprise_ and her crew are legendary for a reason," Gerard replies.

"Damn right," Travie says. "Okay, follow me. I don't want to be the one making the captain wait." He winks and leads them towards the lifts.

They follow him through the corridors and up the turbolift. It looks much like any other starship, but Gerard has to stop himself from reaching out just to touch her walls. And when the turbolift doors open onto the bridge, Gerard's breath catches. Fuck, she's beautiful.

He'd love to simply stand and watch for a while, but he doesn't want to get in the way. This isn't his crew, but they move the same - a tightly choreographed routine. He recognizes most of them to speak to. Travie leads them to the ready room and gestures for them to go through the door.

Morrison stands to greet them. "Hello," he says with a bright grin. "Very happy to have you."

"Very happy to be had," Gerard says without thinking. Luckily Frank is saying thank you for the invitation and Gerard can nod and agree. "It's a dream come true."

"There are quarters for you on deck seventeen. All the ship's amenities are available to you, the same as they would be any member of the crew. And please, as you are here as my friends and guests, call me Grant," he says.

"Gerard and Frank, then," Gerard says.

"Of course. Unfortunately I am on duty until 1900, but I'd love to have you join me for a late dinner."

"That sounds wonderful," Gerard replies.

"You will, of course, have to meet the whole bridge crew, but that can happen later. I'll call an ensign to take you to your quarters." He picks something up off his desk. "And here are your personal comm badges. You'll be locked out of the main channels when the ship is at alert, but otherwise use them as you like."

"This is all so thoughtful," Frank says. "Thank you."

"Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you," Grant replies. "A certain Vulcan chief medical officer has been looking forward to seeing you. She'll also want to check Gerard into her care, so I suggest you head to sick bay once you're settled in your rooms. Or she'll hunt you down," he adds thoughtfully.

"We can imagine," Frank replies dryly.

"Thank you again," Gerard says. The door chime sounds. "Ah, there's Ensign. I will see you at dinner."

"This is weird," Gerard says when he is safely installed in his quarters, with Frank sprawled on his couch.

"What, that you're not in charge?" Frank asks.

Gerard cuts him a look and then shrugs. "Okay, a little. Also having a Starfleet ship be more like a hotel than work."

"A really nice hotel," Frank corrects.

"With a really hot concierge," Gerard adds with a sigh.

"I knew it," Frank says with a smug grin.

"Shut up," Gerard replies. "Let's go see Jamia."

"Don't have to ask me twice."

"Computer, where is sickbay?" Gerard asks just as they're about to leave the door.

"Sickbay is on deck seven, section four," the soothing voice replies.

*

"Took you long enough," Jamia says as soon as the sickbay doors hiss open for them.

"I thought Vulcans weren't supposed to get impatient," Gerard teases.

"You know very well that our patience is not in infinite quantities," Jamia replies with a slight smile.

"You're married to Frank, yours must be close," Gerard says back.

"You're his captain," Jamia says. "Yours can't be too far off."

"For him."

"Oh, Gerard. I am glad you're here. It is not that I do not trust the twins' skills, but I am glad I can treat you myself," she says, pulls out her tricorder, and begins scanning.

"The twins have been wonderful," Gerard says.

"I will be also," Jamia says matter-of-factly. "But here we have Captain Morrison, and he will be... kind. You will talk to him."

"I will?" Gerard asks.

"I think it necessary. And you have placed yourself into my care."

"I planned to anyway," Gerard says quietly. "But maybe it will be good to have your encouragement to do so."

She works with the tricorder for a few more moments and hums absently. "Adequate. I will open a file for you. There are therapies I think will serve. And you," she adds, turning back to Frank, "you..."

"Hi," Frank says with a brilliant smile, and Gerard turns away to give them a moment of privacy. 

"Gabriel has done well," Jamia says when she continues her scan of Gerard. "I have some things I want to try on the nanobots, if you don't mind, ah, being part of a clinical trial."

"I trust you," Gerard says.

Her lips quirk up. "I thought you'd say that. Good." She sits the tricorder down. "Dinner tonight?"

"The captain - ah - Grant. He asked," Gerard tells her.

"That is what I meant. He invited me too," Jamia said. "Just me, I think. He wanted it to be a quiet meal for your first night here. Especially since many of those on the crew who have expressed interest in your arrival tend to be... less quiet."

"Gabe?" Gerard asks, lips twitching.

"Among others." Jamia doesn't hug them, not that Gerard expected her to, but she does pat them both on the cheek. "Go. Rest. I will see you at dinner."

"We will," Gerard replies, and they leave sickbay.

"It's so weird," Gerard says as they walk. "On the bridge, we can always see that we're _moving_ through space. It's harder to tell amidship."

"Some people like it better that way," Frank answers. _But not us,_ is the unspoken qualification. It's true enough. "Do we know what the _Enterprise_ is doing for the next two months?"

"Not totally sure," Gerard says. "I heard rumors about patrolling deep space, but those might be unfounded."

"Well, beats sitting around on Earth," Frank answers.

"Yeah, we can sit around on the fucking _Enterprise,_ " Gerard grins.

"Also, the _Enterprise_ has friends and a holodeck. Gonna get back into D &D, Gee?" Frank asks.

"Maybe I will," Gerard replies. He's got two months to kill, after all.

*

Gerard doesn't need directions to the Captain's quarters when he leaves for dinner that night. They are universally easy to find on every ship, and the closest personal quarters to the bridge. Luckily, the other officers are always nearby, so it's not quite as lonely as it could be. This being the _Enterprise,_ they're beautifully appointed, but they reflect the occupant as well, and the closest term Gerard can come up with for the jumble of furniture and art and books is fascinating.

And gorgeous.

Grant himself, well. Gerard never thought to imagine him out of his Starfleet uniform. But now he's lounging against the cushions of his sofa in white pants and a brightly colored t-shirt. Lounging, for certain - he stretches and stands and crosses the room to greet him, bringing to mind a sleek, satisfied cat. Gerard tugs nervously at the lapels of his jacket, noting how a flick of Grant's eyes takes it in with approval.

"I trust you're comfortable?"

"Very, thanks," Gerard replies.

"I'm glad to hear it. Jamia and Frank should be here momentarily, and then we can eat. Tonight is Indian food because India is quite possibly my favorite place on Earth. Other than my home, of course," Grant says with a smile.

"Sounds great," Gerard says. "Looking forward to the company as well."

Grant smiles. "As am I, Gerard."

Jamia and Frank show up a moment later and Grant shows them to the table. The food is already there, steaming and looking fresh. Gerard has a brief moment of wondering if he fixed the food himself, but Grant immediately dispels his question. "I wish I could say I cooked this from scratch, but alas, I did not. I did program the replicator to get it just right, though."

"I'm sure it is correct, Captain," Jamia says.

"Thanks for the confidence, Jamia," Grant smiles. "And for joining us. Gerard, Frank, I know the ship is probably fairly similar to what you're used to, but may I answer any questions while we eat?"

"We were a little curious about which sets of stars we'll be seeing as we fly through them," Gerard says and passes the naan to Jamia.

"Our primary mission is to take supplies to Deep Space 3, but since there's plenty of unexplored space not too far out of the way, we'll be doing some exploration both to and from," Grant says with a grin.

"Best part of supply runs," Gerard returns his grin.

"Unfortunately, you won't be able to join us on any planetary explorations," Grant says apologetically.

"Understood," Gerard nods. They're not here in any official capacity, after all. Gerard has no wish to subject Grant to any disciplinary actions on his behalf.

"Look on the bright side, at least one of my own officers is in the same boat," Grant says.

"Gabe," Jamia adds. "He's been banned since he accidentally started a cult on the moon of Cluster Designate CS-997."

Gerard starts laughing so hard he has to lean on his fist to catch his breath. "Of course he did."

"He was entirely too pleased by his own escapades," Jamia says.

"That sounds about right," Frank says. He's grinning just as big as Gerard.

"Well," Gerard adds, coughing a little as he takes a deep breath, "I'm sure we will find plenty to amuse ourselves with. She's a gorgeous ship, Grant."

"She is that," Grant replies. "There's something magical about her."

Gerard smiles. "That's what Travie said. If I can make the _Parade_ even a quarter as great as what you have here, I'll be happy."

"I'd love to visit the _Parade_ some day," Grant says.

"I believe I owe you that much," Gerard laughs. "You're certainly welcome at any time."

"The next time I have some leave, perhaps I will call on you," Grant says with a little quirk of his eyebrow. Gerard takes a breath. With anyone else, he'd wonder if that was meant to be flirtatious.

"Any time," Gerard repeats.

"Tomorrow, if you're both amenable, I'd like to do dinner with my command officers. I think you'll get on very well with all of them," Grant says.

"I agree," Jamia says.

Conversation turns to Starfleet news after a while, and it feels much like a dinner with Gerard's own command crew. "So, any great plans for your time here?" Grant asks.

"I want to catch up on my reading. And paint. I haven't had time for art in too long."

"Will you contribute something to my collection?" Grant asks. Gerard looks around the walls of Grant's quarters. There are pieces from great artists of the last seven hundred or so years. Gerard's first instinct is to ask what Grant could possibly want with his art when he has all this. He doesn't, though.

"If you like."

Grant smiles at him again. It's a gorgeous smile. "We also have a ship gallery you could contribute to, but I'd very much like something for my private collection," Grant says.

"Gerard went to art school before he applied to the Academy," Jamia tells him, and Gerard feels his cheeks go pink as Frank jumps in and talks about Gerard's school portfolio.

"Why leave art for Starfleet?" Grant asks.

"My family is from just south of New York. When the Romulan ship attacked the city, I felt like I needed to do something more with my life. Shake things up."

"It certainly seems to a career that complements your skills," Grant murmurs.

"Thank you," Gerard replies and feels his cheeks go hot again. This is ridiculous, he thinks. Obviously it's been far, far too long since he's had a relationship of any kind.

When dinner and coffee and chatting are done and they all start yawning, Jamia and Frank make their way back to their quarters and Gerard follows them absently. Jamia says goodnight and goes to get ready for bed, but Frank stays with Gerard.

"You have a major crush," Frank observes.

Gerard lets his head thump against the back of their sofa. "I know," he groans.

"I mean. It could be worse," Frank says.

"How?" Gerard asks.

"Um..."

"Unattainable legends. Why do I do this to myself?" Gerard asks.

"At least on the _Enterprise_ you can have a casual fling with someone and it won't come back to haunt you?"

"Someone?" Gerard asks.

"It's a big fucking ship, Gee," Frank says. "Could be anyone." When Gerard doesn't say anything, Frank rolls his eyes. "Of course you want the captain. Why would I expect different?"

"He's so... ugh. This is terrible," Gerard says.

Frank just pats him on the shoulder. "Go to sickbay for your hypospray. I don't want to be responsible for you missing your first treatment."

*

The next day, Gerard doesn't wake up until he smells coffee. He stumbles out of his room to find Frank on the sofa, steaming mug in hand. "Fuck, that smells good. Timezit?"

"Later than we normally sleep," Frank mumbles.

"Helpful," Gerard says. "Computer, what time is it?"

"The time is 0943."

"Jesus. I haven't slept this late since my last actual shore leave."

"Feels good," Frank says. "I know you have to go see Jamia later, but what are you doing now?"

"What, are you bored already?" 

Frank shrugs. 

"Maybe I'll contact Jon. I didn't get to before now. He's probably pissed at me," Gerard says.

"For what? You were a little busy."

"Well, yeah. But I didn't exactly tell him what happened. He probably found out from the _Times,_ not me. That's kind of shitty," Gerard replies.

"Your friends will understand. Why don't you go track him down on the holonet now? Let him duel you or something if he's pissed."

"After coffee," he says and steals Frank's mug from his hand and takes a sip.

"The replicator is _right there,_ " Frank points out.

"Yeah, but I need a sip first. Asking for coffee is strenuous." Frank rolls his eyes, but he's not really mad. Gerard hands him back his cup and stands in front of the replicator. "Hot coffee with cream and sugar."

He goes to get dressed once he's gotten a cup and a half of coffee in him then heads for the holodeck. He stands in front of the comm panel.

"Computer, ping Alpha 4337." As Gerard waits to see if there is a response, he calls up his holodeck library and flips through the options.

"Way to drop off the galaxy, asshole," Jon's voice says.

Gerard looks back up and grins to see Jon's face. "Sorry. A bunch of shit went down."

"I fuckin' know, dude. Becky still messages me even if you don't."

Gerard makes a face. "Sorry I didn't keep you in the loop."

"I get it, Gee. Just don't do it again, okay? I was worried."

"I won't," he promises. "How are you doing?"

"Okay! I keep making stuff, people keep wanting it. It all works out," Jon replies.

"I'm glad. So, I'm free for, oh, the next two months. Wanna play some D&D?" Gerard asks.

"Do I," Jon says. "Hell yeah."

Gerard grins. "Awesome. Since it's just us, we might as well let the computer DM? Unless you can get anyone else in on this. I kinda wanna use a sword, though."

"Oh, I just bet you do," Jon laughs.

"Awesome. I'll call up our last save?" Gerard asks.

"Definitely. Give me a couple of minutes to finish something and I'll be back."

"Will do." Gerard finds their last game and watches the landscape materialize around him. Fuck, he loves this game. The rules haven't changed much since the twentieth century. It was actually one of the first recreational things adapted for holodeck, because nerds across centuries don't change overmuch.

Jon comes back and he and Gerard spend a bunch of time in advancing their quest. It's fun and violent and Gerard kills as many enemies with his sword as he can. "Two minute warning," the computer tells him and he sighs.

"Shit, gotta go, Jon. I'll call again, okay?"

"You better. I wanna try out this magic carpet next time."

Gerard laughs and saves the game and shuts down the holodeck. When he gets out to the corridor, a group of ensigns snap to attention and salute him. He salutes back and it doesn't strike him as odd until he's nearly back to his quarters.

"I could feel your confusion from two corridors over," a voice says next to him. "What troubles you?"

"Fuck you, Gabe," he mutters, but he can't stop the grin that spreads across his face. "Good to see you!"

"You too, Gee Way. So. What has you all in a dither?"

"A bunch of ensigns just saluted me. I'm nobody and I'm in civvies."

Gabe laughs. "Gerard." Gerard feels his face go hot as he remembers the implant. 

"I'm never going to get used to it."

"It's not just that, Gerard, you're sort of famous."

"Fuck, really? Probably for the wrong reasons. No wonder the council hates me."

"Only the ones that aren't in Grant's pocket, Gee baby. ...And you'd like to be." Gabe says with a grin on his face.

"You're an asshole."

"I didn't even have to read you to know that. Just your _face_ says it."

"Have you _seen_ his pockets?" Gerard says helplessly.

"Oh yeah," Gabe laughs. "Not saying I blame you."

"You coming in?" Gerard asks when they're in front of his quarters.

"Unfortunately, I have places to be. But I'll be there for dinner in the captain's quarters," Gabe replies.

"I guess asking you to behave is wasting my breath?" Gerard can still hear Gabe laughing when he's half a corridor away. He laughs and shakes his head as he goes inside. He likes Gabe plenty, but shit, he is glad Gabe isn't assigned to the _Parade._

The suite is too quiet. Gerard looks at his sketchbook for a moment but doesn't open it. It's too early to contact any of his crew and the crew of the _Enterprise_ is similarly engaged. Even on the best ship in the fleet, he's bored.

He sighs and sends Ray a quick note instead of initiating the viewscreen talk he'd prefer. _I'm a workaholic._

 _I know,_ Ray replies about two minutes later. _And I love you anyway._

_But I'm bored._

It takes about ten minutes to get a response this time. It makes Gerard laugh. _Fuck you_ is all the message says. He thinks his relationship with his crew probably wouldn't get Starfleet approval, but it works for him.

If he had a mental checklist for today, he could mark off coffee, D&D, and annoying Ray. That probably means it's time for more coffee. Maybe he'll go to Ten Forward for it. He changes his clothes and shrugs his jacket back on; he's glad he brought it.

Gerard pays more attention to the people he passes in the corridors this time. Most of them at least pretend to ignore his presence, but he feels them watching as he goes by.

There is actually real, fresh coffee in Ten Forward when he gets there and Gerard is tempted to make two cups. Technically, it doesn't actually taste any different from the kind made from the replicator. There'd been studies done to prove it, but Gerard still finds the real stuff more comforting, somehow.

The kitchen staff are friendly, urging him to order a meal as well, and he might have thought they recognize him too, if it wasn't for watching them with everyone else. This is a great place. He knows the further they get from Earth, the sparser the fresh-cooked meals from genuine materials will be. Maybe he'll stay long enough to get lunch.

When he turns away from the counter, he scans the room for a place to sit. "I'd be delighted if you'd join me," said a voice from his right. Gerard looks over to see Grant occupying a table near a window and grins. He walks over and pulls out a chair. "I try to spend some time here most days," Grant said. "I like to spend a little time with the non-command portion of the crew in a more casual environment when I can, and this is the easiest way to do it at times."

"That's admirable," Gerard says. "I try, but I'm not - I don't -"

"From all I have heard, your rapport with your crew is excellent." Grant smiles sardonically. "I tend to be intimidating."

"I can't imagine," Gerard says, deadpan.

Grant laughs. "Yes, well. If you continue as you've started, you'll understand soon enough."

"There you go with the flattery again," Gerard says, sipping his coffee and looking up through his lashes.

"You persist in being worthy of it," Grant replies with a smile that makes Gerard's heart speed up.

"Should I stop?" Gerard asks lightly.

"Not at all," Grant replies. "I rather enjoy the way your cheeks get pink every time I compliment you."

"That's a pretty personal observation," Gerard says, because fuck, what else is he supposed to say.

"It was meant to be," Grant murmurs. "If you'd prefer I not say such things, just say the word."

"No," Gerard says slowly. "Carry on." Grant smiles at him again and Gerard swallows down a gulp of coffee to keep from doing any number of nervous little movements with his hands. Fuck, he just gave one of the most powerful men in Starfleet permission to flirt with him.

He feels better, but infinitely more nervous at the same time. He hasn't had a relationship last longer than two weeks since being promoted to captain and maybe this won't turn out to be anything, but fuck, he wants it. And he figures if he can make it work with anyone, it'd be another captain.

"Penny for your thoughts, Captain," Grant murmurs.

"They're not worth that much. Just the eternal conflict between being a captain and managing to have a personal life," Gerard replies.

"I am familiar," Grant says. "I believe, like careers, the right one can be...worth it."

"I agree," Gerard says. "I've just... been terrible at it."

"Then you're about due for a change, aren't you?" Grant replies, sipping his drink.

"I like change. Keeps me thinking and on my toes." Gerard sips his own coffee.

"You've eight weeks of it here," Grant says.

Gerard laughs. "Not too much. I've already been on the comm to Ray today."

Grant smiles. "When I'm on leave, I am in contact with Vince, my first officer, almost daily. The curse and the blessing of being a captain. All is well on the _Parade?_ "

"Ray told me to fuck off. I'm taking that as a yes. I'll meet Vince tonight?" Gerard asks.

"You will. We've known each other for almost thirty years now. I wouldn't have anyone else as my first officer," Grant replies.

"You sure I can't convince you to take mine?" Gerard teases.

Grant laughs. "You seem to be a good team."

Gerard nods. "Like you said, wouldn't have another. And James and Ray are pretty important to me as well."

Grant smiles, "I will look forward to seeing what kind of name the reunited _Parade_ makes for herself."

"Looking to get rid of us already?"

"No," Grant replies. "Never that. You have the tight-knit command crew to create something truly special, though."

"I know," Gerard replies. "We're good together."

"Yes," Grant says simply. "They don't teach you that. That's all -" He reaches out and touches Gerard's temple, then his chest, "here, and here." Gerard can barely keep his breath steady, but he smiles. "And now, unfortunately, my break is over and I must return to the bridge. I will see you at dinner?"

"Looking forward to it." And he is.

Grant beams at him. "As am I. Have a good day, Gerard."

Gerard unabashedly watches him walk away. When the doors slide shut behind Grant, the whole place practically erupts in whispers. Gerard can't hide, so he goes to get more coffee and smiles at a few people. "I'll take that food now," he tells the server at the counter. "Whatever is on the mess menu."

*

The captain's quarters are transformed when Gerard arrives for dinner, with a large table laid in place of the more intimate grouping of the night before. It is still elegant, but not intimidating. Probably because of the attitudes of the men and women in the room, who are clearly all close. Grant grins brightly when he sees them and heads straight for them. "So glad you're here," he says and leads them toward a man standing to the side. "Vince Deighan, Gerard Way," he says.

"I've heard so much about you," Gerard says, offering a hand.

"Likewise," Vince replies, shaking his hand.

"And this is Cameron Stewart, my helmsman," Grant says and gestures toward a younger man with a beard and an easy smile, "and Chris Burhnam, my security officer." In the corner, Frank and Jamia are talking to a pretty redhead and Grant motions her forward. "And this is Chantal Claret, my long-suffering communications officer. And you already know Travis and Gabe and Jamia, I know, and Jamia's introduced Frank."

Gerard grins at all of them. He hasn't seen Gabe and Travie in the same place yet and as usual, they're standing together towering over most everyone in the room. Even Grant, though the captain is fairly tall. But Grant draws the eye. Gerard's eye at the very least. He can feel Gabe smirking at him. He doesn't care. Frank and Vince start swapping first officer stories and Gerard wants to laugh giddily at how similar he and Grant really are.

Chantal comes over and strikes up a conversation and it turns out they do know each other, slightly. A training program Gerard barely remembers, granted, but he does remember her face. She's fun and cheerful and when she asks Gerard what he's doing with his leave and he mentions playing D&D with Jon, she gets excited.

"I've always wanted to try, but I'm pretty sure all you old warriors would kill me in two seconds flat."

Gerard laughs. "You should join a campaign sometime. We can go easy on you until you know the ropes."

"Really?" She's beaming. "Yes, that's the best news ever!"

He grins. "Really. And the best thing about it is that we can play together from all over the place. I don't know why it's not more popular with Starfleet in general. There really aren't that many interactive holodeck games like it." 

Gabe sidles up to Gerard. "I know you're pretending."

"To be okay? Yeah," Gerard admits quietly. 

"Just think about talking to Grant, will you?" 

Gerard nods.

Cameron and Chris have stepped a bit apart from the group, and Gerard goes to say hello. Cameron smiles. "I was just saying to Chris that all the best people in Starfleet are either on your ship or this one."

"I have to agree," Gerard replies.

"We went through the academy with Becky," Chris tells him. "It's nice to meet you finally."

"She is a lifesaver. Often quite literally. Don't know what I'd do without her," Gerard says.

"You mean she saves our asses all the time and knows more about engineering than anyone on the rest of the ship combined?" Frank asks, joining them.

"Yes, Frank, that is what I mean," Gerard says dryly. "That was captainspeak."

Frank waves a hand. "Sometimes you just gotta say it like it is. Especially when Becky is involved."

"I always tell it like it is," Cameron says.

"This is eminently true," Grant says, joining them and slinging an arm around Cameron's shoulders for a moment.

"Frank's really exceptional at it," Gerard says with a grin at Jamia.

"If you would ever like to borrow Cameron, it's better than locking him in the brig when he's mouthy," Grant adds.

"Is that a typical reprimand around here, captain?" Gerard teases.

Grant laughs. "Yes. Probably why he's so mouthy."

"I think you like it," Gerard says.

"Oh, he does," Gabe says with a wicked grin on his face.

"Cheating," Grant says with a long-suffering sigh. Gerard's stomach swoops.

"The old earth folk tale about the scorpion comes to mind," Jamia says. "It is in his nature to cheat."

"From you, that's a compliment," Gabe says, laughing. "I'm just following the dictates of my nature, Captain."

Grant shakes his head. "I concede. Shall we eat, friends?"

Grant seats Gerard next to him, which maybe makes Gerard feel a little better than strictly necessary. He is the guest, after all. Dinner is fantastic, but a bit raucous. He feels a bit worn down after a while. Gerard notices Grant watching.

"You're not doing as well as you hoped?" Grant asks. Gerard shakes his head.

"I wasn't expecting to get better overnight, but I'd been hoping Frank's trial being over and the change of scenery would help more than they have," he admits. "Both Jamia and Gabe have advised me to talk to you."

"I will, of course," Grant says. "Perhaps you and Frank would come for breakfast tomorrow?"

"That sounds nice," Gerard replies.

"And since tomorrow is my day off, perhaps you would join me on the holodeck in the afternoon? Usually I find a warm beach I've never been to to visit, but we could do most anything," Grant adds.

"I - with Frank?"

"No," Grant says with a crooked smile. "That one would be just us."

Gerard can't contain his smile. "Are you asking me on a date?" he asks.

"Such as it is, yes," Grant replies.

"I'm glad," Gerard murmurs. He nudges Grant's fingers with his on top of the table. Grant just smiles, and Gerard has to suppress a shiver. He can't remember the last time he felt this kind of attraction to anyone. He sees a few smirks disappear into sleeves around the table. They are not, he is afraid, fooling anyone. But Gerard can't bring himself to care - he's following Grant's lead. Grant knows the waters here.

After dinner, Gerard finds himself sitting on the couch with Grant, coffee in hand, talking quietly. Grant tends to touch Gerard's wrist with his fingers when he makes a point and Gerard wishes the whole roomful of people would disappear, even though he's enjoying this. Gradually, they do. This time it's down to Jamia, Frank and Gabe, Gerard and Grant, and Gerard hopes maybe Frank's talking to Gabe about the court-martial. Gabe is extremely good at putting people at ease when he wants to be. Being half-Betazoid gives him the advantage when dealing with feelings.

"If the last two days are any indicator for how the next two months will go, I think I owe you a huge debt of thanks," Gerard tells Grant. "Even if I do have to suppress my inner workaholic."

"How likely is that to happen?" Grant teases.

"Me _actually_ being able to suppress my inner workaholic? Not terribly," Gerard replies. "Luckily, my crew will probably all tell me to fuck off like Ray did earlier. And Lazzara is a good guy. I'm trying to trust him. But they're mine, Grant. Everyone on that ship. I can't help thinking about it. If I didn't, what good would I be?"

"I understand completely," Grant says and squeezes his wrist. "A ship is a strange mix of home and hometown and letting a non-native take care of it is always worrying."

"I always seem to be bringing my problems to you," Gerard sighs. "I promise I know how to talk about normal things."

"I don't mind hearing about your problems, Gerard," Grant says gently. "They're part of your life right now. In fact, they're why you're here at all. But if you'd like to talk about something else, we can."

"I'd like to talk about you, really. I feel like I know you, but I don't."

Grant smiles. "How about I tell you what the books and articles don't and we can go from there?" Gerard nods. "I don't talk about her much to the sorts who write down the things I say, but my sister Leigh is very important to me. Her children are in those photos," he says and points at a photo frame with a rotating series of photos. "As I am unlikely at this point in my life to have my own, I do try to be a good uncle. I assume you've read about my father?"

Gerard nods. "War hero turned pacifist. Fought for Starfleet vessels to stop carrying deadly weapons."

"He was always my hero. I can never decide if he'd be proud or disappointed to see me where I am today." He laughs at Gerard's expression. "No, no, nothing so dire as all that. I made the decision that change is best effected from within, and I'm happy with that choice. Anyway, whenever we are in port and have a 'bring your family on board' day, I always invite the little ones. They like sitting in the captain's chair."

Gerard grins. "I bet. I like sitting in the captain's chair too," he adds. "If only to watch the stars."

"That's the best part," Grant says. "When we are doing things right, when we're sticking to the spirit of exploration and and discovery, that's when I love it best. My father might not like that I'm willing to use our array of weapons, but I stay for the beauty of it all. Maybe we should make it a beach at night," he continues softly. "I'd like to watch the stars with you."

Gerard smiles and stops himself from reaching up to play with his hair as if he's in high school again. "I'd like that. It's been a while since I could do that without thinking about anything but the stars. And the person I'm with." The look on Grant's face has him wavering between shifting closer and leaping away. He's so nervous. But he's tired, too, and that keeps him in his seat more than anything.

The computer chimes softly as they're still staring at each other, and Grant says, "Damn, is that the time?"

"It is 2300 hours, captain," comes the response. "You requested an alarm."

"My shift," Grant says apologetically.

"That's fine," Gerard says with a smile and a squeeze of Grant's fingers. "I was just thinking that I wished I wasn't so tired. Breakfast tomorrow, right?"

"Yes. I get off shift at 0800. If you think you'll be available?" He laughs at Gerard's grimace. "Then we can both get some rest before we go stargazing."

Gerard smiles. "It's amazing how fast I get out of the habit of being an early riser. That sounds good."

Gabe, Jamia and Frank stand and they all say their final good nights before splitting off to their quarters. "So, a date with the famous Captain Morrison?" Frank asks.

"Looks that way," Gerard says, corners of his mouth twitching. "We're having breakfast with him tomorrow at 0800."

"Yeah, I heard," Frank replies. "He seems awesome, though. I'm glad for you, Gee."

"Me too," Gerard says with a yawn.

*

When Gerard's alarm goes off for breakfast the next morning, he moans and wishes for about a minute that he could pull the covers over his head and go back to sleep. He forces himself to get up and find some clothes. Frank will just come track him down if he doesn't appear. When the door chime announces Frank, Gerard gives him an impulsive hug.

Frank clings back. "C'mon. Grant will have coffee," he murmurs when he pulls away.

Grant greets them at the door and fuck, even tired looks good on him. "Morning," Grant murmurs. "I had them bring me a pot of the real coffee. It's on the table."

"Private stash of coffee," Gerard starts.

"Best perk of command crew," Frank finishes.

"Indeed," Grant says with a sleepy chuckle. "Have at it. I figured for the rest of the meal we could just have the replicator give us what we each want."

They order in turn, and when they are seated around Grant's table - the small round one has been returned to the suite like magic - Grant says, "Well, I suppose it's time to confess."

Gerard smiles ruefully. "I figured it out."

"If you don't want to talk, I could do the talking for now," Grant says.

"No, I..." Gerard sighs heavily and rubs his hands over his face. "I'm so tired and I'm really fucking sick of it. I can't sleep. I have nightmares that I can still hear them. And since I still have their fucking nanobots inside me, I'm not even sure that I'm not."

"You're not, Gerard. There isn't a cube anywhere near us. And there won't be if Starfleet does their job. But I understand. I had those nightmares," Grant says.

"How long did they last?" Gerard asks.

"Months," Grant says quietly. "Sometimes I still have them. I had one when I found out you'd been taken and your brother came to get you. The nanobots are there, Gerard, and I am aware of it every day. But I am in control. And if I couldn't be, there are people who would take care of me." Gerard nods. "I know it's hard. I know how profoundly the experience genuinely fucks with your brain, but I promise it will get better, if not perfectly so, and I promise that if you ever need to speak to me at any time, you may."

"I still feel like a failure," Gerard says. "Like I'm not normal now. Maybe I wasn't normal before, but now... it's just worse. I can't escape it. And the things I said to Frank..."

"That was the hive, Gee," Frank whispers.

"I just... I feel so fucking _small_ now," Gerard says.

"We're specks in an infinite universe," Grant says quietly, "and yet we can hold entire universes in here," he reaches out and taps Gerard's temple. "Just remember that. Really know that. Perhaps it will help."

"It's so strange... I've always felt like I was part of something with Starfleet, on the _Parade,_ but... with them, you are literally part of a machine, part of a collective consciousness that's massive."

"Yes, but they can function just fine without any given part of that machine," Grant says. "Your ship could not function as well without you, without your unique perspective. And so, neither would Starfleet."

Gerard sighs, but doesn't argue further. "I need more coffee," he says. 

Grant hands him the pot. "We can continue this conversation some other time if you'd like."

"Yeah," Gerard says. "That's enough heavy shit for one morning."

"Well," Grant says, setting his fork down, "I am glad you could join me regardless."

Gerard stands and offers a hand. "Thanks, Captain."

"Anytime, lad." 

Frank stands up too and shakes hands. "You were nice enough to have breakfast with us after your shift, you deserve your rest. Maybe you'll need it for later," he laughs.

Grant lifts an eyebrow. "Perhaps I shall. All right, I shall see you this afternoon, Gerard. Fourteen hundred hours, holodeck three."

"Looking forward to it," Gerard says.

"As am I," Grant replies, and Gerard slips out of his quarters, parting ways with Frank. 

After his treatment, he doesn't really have a plan for the day until he meets Grant later. Maybe he can read some of his books for a while. 

Except he ends up stretched out on the couch, not reading, just thinking. About Grant. There's so much about him that Gerard likes already. And none of it has much to do with him being Captain Grant Morrison, not really. Though, some of it is definitely _why_ he's Captain Grant Morrison. And Grant wants to spend time with him. Wants to do a bit more than that, if Gerard's not entirely wrong about things. Not many people flirt with him and mean it now. He really likes that Grant does.

 

*

Gerard has nearly as much trouble dressing for this date as he did last night. They're going to a _beach._ He maybe didn't think this through. But he definitely does want to do whatever Grant wants to do. He gets to the holodeck a few minutes early anyway, and Grant shows up a moment later, wearing a truly ugly flowered shirt, tight white pants, and a brilliant smile. Gerard smiles back. He's glad he decided on jeans and a black shirt. "So where are we going?" he asks.

"Honduras, I think," Grant replies. "Even now, the Bay Islands are largely untouched by light pollution, but I think I'll program away the man-made light anyway." Gerard watches him tap at the controls, clearly familiar with this programming. "This holodeck is reserved for the afternoon, so don't worry about the time," Grant says with a smile. "Perks of being the captain. After you?"

Gerard walks through the doors onto sand. He toes his shoes off and waits as Grant does the same. His stomach flips when Grant slides his hand into Gerard's.

"This way. I know this beach well, but I can probably get a torch should you like to see your feet."

"I trust you," Gerard tells him. He closes his eyes for a moment, then reopens them, breathing in the salt air as his eyes start to adjust. He lets Grant lead him across the sand, warm and silky under his soles.

Grant leads Gerard out from the inlet they arrived in toward a good spot for stargazing and they sit. Gerard hesitates for half a second before leaning against Grant's side. "I know I'm a Starfleet captain and I've seen hundreds of different night skies, but I'll always find the Southern Hemisphere of Earth a little more foreign to me than all the others," Gerard says quietly.

"Just familiar enough to be strange," Grant agrees. "Beautiful, though."

"Yes. Very," Gerard says.

Grant wraps an arm around Gerard's shoulder and starts talking. "This was the first place I visited once I was done with the Academy and had some leave. I don't know why I chose it, except I wanted to go somewhere warm, and I wanted it to be on Earth. Could have chosen almost anywhere, but I ended up here."

"You came alone?" Gerard asks, curious. He likes exploring new places by himself, not that he ever does these days now that it's his job, but he knows that's not something other people usually do.

"Not always," Grant says. "When I was dating, no. But the first time I was alone."

"I don't think I've ever managed any sort of vacation with a significant other," Gerard says. "Schedules never matched up."

"I dated a nurse when I was younger. She stayed with me much longer than I would have expected, given the rigors of the Academy. Given my own dubious charms at that time," Grant sighs. "Bollocksed it up, of course."

"I have fucked up all but one of my relationships, and that one was at least partly me too," Gerard says. "I probably shouldn't be saying this if I want… but it's true."

"It happens," Grant replies. "I remain optimistic. Though largely single. My only other serious attempt ended - badly." He doesn't elaborate. "Oh, look, the computer gave us a meteor shower." He leans into Gerard a bit more to point.

Gerard looks the direction Grant points. It really is spectacular. Grant's fingers rub Gerard's side and he draws in a small breath.

Grant turns his head from the sky and looks at Gerard. "Beautiful," he says softly, flicking his eyes over Gerard's face. "Yes or no, Gerard?"

"Yes," he breathes.

Grant leans in and brushes his lips over Gerard's. It's the first time he's been kissed in so long, Gerard can barely breathe. He reaches up to cup Grant's cheek and Grant slides his tongue over Gerard's bottom lip. Gerard opens his mouth to let him in. Everything is so slow, deliberate, and it's so dark that Gerard's other senses go into overdrive. The taste of Grant's mouth, the wet heat of his tongue and the soft rasp of stubble on his cheek. The thump of his own pulse.

He makes a soft noise of encouragement and Grant slides a hand under the hem of Gerard's shirt at the small of his back. He wraps his arm around Grant's waist and fuck, he's making out with a hot man on a tropical beach. He's never been so happy to be a cliche.

Grant slowly lowers Gerard down onto his back on the sand and leans over him. "Fuck, you're incredible," he murmurs, and leans down to kiss Gerard again.

"Don't steal my lines like that," Gerard says breathlessly when their lips part.

"You don't need lines," Grant says, settling his full weight onto Gerard and threading his fingers into Gerard's hair.

"Neither do you," Gerard replies.

"I'll just do this, then," he murmurs and kisses Gerard again. Gerard wraps his arms around Grant's neck and relishes the feel of his mouth, the way Grant's body feels against his. Fuck, he missed this. Gerard loses track - of time, of everything, anything that isn't Grant. They're still fully clothed - they haven't done anything else but kiss - but Gerard doesn't know if he's ever been so content.

Eventually, Grant pulls back and moves off Gerard. Gerard misses the weight, his warmth, but then Grant tugs him into his arms and they look up at the stars. "I wish our meeting had happened because of better circumstances. I wouldn't wish the Borg on anyone," Grant murmurs, "but I am so very glad that we _have_ met now."

"So am I," says Gerard, nuzzling against Grant's neck. "And what will you do now that you've met me?"

"Time will tell," Grant teases. "I'm sure something will come to me."

Gerard smiles and kisses his cheek, then settles back against him. "Thank you for bringing me here," he murmurs.

"Perhaps one day it will be the real place, rather than just the simulation," Grant replies.

It's easy enough to say, but Gerard suddenly has a little bit of hope that he's right.

They stay like that, just staring up at the stars for a long time. After a while, they start talking again. About random things, silly things, their favorite planets, favorite foods, childhood things. It is in many ways a perfect date. Gerard hasn't had one that moved so...slowly, not in a long time. But there's something about Grant that just makes him want to wait. _Savor_ , his brain bubbles up from somewhere. Of all his relationships, this one, if it turns into an actual relationship, _deserves_ savoring, he thinks.

Grant looks as disappointed - and surprised - as Gerard feels when the computer chimes discreetly that their time is up. He knows it's been hours, but it's gone by in a flash. "We can - do this again?" Gerard asks hopefully. "Here, or - your quarters, or -" Fuck, he feels obvious.

Grant just smiles, cups his cheeks, and leans in for a brief, but intense kiss. "I think I'd like to spend as much of the next two months in your presence as possible," he whispers when he pulls back. He helps Gerard stand and kisses him again before he says, "Computer, end program."

As they exit the holodeck, Gerard holds in a smile when the group of ensigns waiting all snap to attention when they see who's exiting.

"There's going to be gossip now," Gerard says when they're in the turbolift.

"There's always gossip," Grant replies, pressing and holding the door button so he can steal one more kiss before Gerard's deck. "I plan on being too occupied to worry about it."

Gerard smiles into the kiss. "Sounds good to me." Grant releases the button and too soon, the doors are sliding open again. "Come for dinner?" Gerard asks. Not that he has anything planned, but it'll be nice to see Grant out of his own space.

"I'd be happy to," he replies.

"Good," Gerard says with a grin and walks down the hall.


End file.
